


let me in the walls.

by redhoods



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, callbacks, light on spoilers though, post ep 96
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22961761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: The guard takes a step back, seemingly caught off guard, “Are you one of those Empire folks?”“Ja,” Caleb says and then hiccups, pats his hand against Fjord’s belly, “We were at the party,” he tells her quietly, like it’s a secret, swaying in her direction, then turns suddenly to Fjord, face redder than it had been moments go, eyes a little glassy, “and I found the good Captain here. Handsome one, isn’t he?”Oh sweet Melora, have mercy.
Relationships: Fjord/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 5
Kudos: 239





	let me in the walls.

**Author's Note:**

> taty asked for faking a relationship in front of guards and i was just like... what if ep 96 didn't end Like That, but instead, hijinks resulting from jester locking that dude on the balcony ensued and the party was scrambling back to the chateau at the end of the night and maybe got separated.
> 
> idk.
> 
> title from dust to dust by the civil wars.

“Shiesse,” Caleb mutters next to him.

“What could go wrong?” Fjord retorts, affecting Jester’s voice as best he can at a whisper as they rush through the streets of Nicodranas. His new boots are not remotely close to being broken in and he’s going to pay the price for their hurrying later.

Caleb swears again in Zemnian.

There’s a stomping of boots and the sinking feeling in his gut that they’re being rapidly closed in on. Fjord moves in closer to Caleb, so neither of them end up on their own.

Then, “Halt! You there!”

Fjord joins Caleb in swearing.

“Trust me,” Caleb says, crashing into his side suddenly and Fjord thinks he’s trying to topple them over but instead Caleb curls an arm around his back, leaning against him. It’s not at all what he expects, was expecting Caleb to perhaps turn them invisible, but Caleb’s brain works in much faster, much more mysterious ways than he own and trying to follow his thought processes in normal conversation is hard enough.

Then Caleb pulls them to a stop, still leaning against Fjord’s side with an arm around him and Caleb hisses a quiet, “Relax.”

Fjord exhales, inhales as the footsteps of the guards approach and slings his arm around Caleb in return, for a lack of anything else to do. “What are you up to, Widogast?” He asks low and his answer is a pinch to his side.

Thankfully, he does not yelp.

“You two,” the guard calls, accent thick, “what brings you out at this hour?” She circles around to the front of them, lantern held aloft, squinting at both their faces.

Caleb leans into his chest heavier, some of his hair slipping loose from his ponytail, brushing across his face, and it’s an appealing look even from the angle Fjord is witnessing at, “Oh, excuse us,” Caleb speaks suddenly, accent much thicker than it had been even a few seconds prior.

Like early in the mornings when he’s first woken up, Fjord’s mind supplies unhelpfully.

The guard takes a step back, seemingly caught off guard, “Are you one of those Empire folks?”

“Ja,” Caleb says and then hiccups, pats his hand against Fjord’s belly, “We were at the party,” he tells her quietly, like it’s a secret, swaying in her direction, then turns suddenly to Fjord, face redder than it had been moments go, eyes a little glassy, “and I found the good Captain here. Handsome one, isn’t he?”

Oh sweet Melora, have mercy.

Fjord tosses a smile at the guard, “Yes, the party was quite the bit of fun, but someone got a little too much into his cups, you see,” he explains, squeezing his arm around Caleb.

“This one was being a gentleman,” Caleb says, swinging his attention back to her, “Offered to see me back safely.”

She looks between the two of them carefully, gaze searching, “I see,” she settles on finally.

“Is everything all right?” Fjord asks her, “We tried to make sure his people knew he was leaving, I hope no one is looking for him.”

Caleb’s hand is playing with the buttons on his shirt and Fjord thinks he might combust if they don’t get away from this woman and soon. A finger brushes his bare skin and he tries not to inhale too sharply, “I hope we haven’t caused any trouble,” Caleb says to her and it sounds like he’s pouting.

Her lips twist as she looks between them once more, “No, I’m terribly sorry to interrupt your evening,” she says finally, flicks her fingers at one of the guards that’s been behind them, “This guard will see you back to—”

“The Lavish Chateau,” Caleb offers.

She goes a little red in the face, “Yes, of course, the Chateau,” she finishes, says a few hushed words to the guard then turns back to them, “Enjoy the rest of your evening.” 

The guard they’re left with keeps looking from them to the path and back.

Caleb’s hand at his back pushes him forward, “We shall lead,” he says cheerily.

Fjord prays for death in the back of his mind, though he doesn’t think the balmy breeze is an actual response. He can hear the guard awkwardly shuffling along behind them and feels bad for the poor person.

Also Caleb still hasn’t removed his palm from Fjord’s belly, the pad of one of his fingers still rubbing against his bare skin as they walk. “Jester messaged me,” Caleb murmurs quietly to him, turning his cheek against Fjord’s shoulder, “Everyone else made it back.”

Of course.

Before he’s thought about it, Fjord groans, sheer frustration and consternation.

The guard behind them clears his throat.

Caleb snickers against his shoulder, “Terribly sorry,” he calls, completely insincere, still red faced and glassy eyed when his mirthful gaze meets Fjord’s eye, “I’m having a hard time keeping my hands off this one.”

The guards footsteps slow, widening the gap.

Fjord turns his gaze forcefully ahead, working his jaw and exhaling heavily through his nose.

The rest of the walk is uneventful and the guard beats a hasty retreat before they’ve fully even made it in the door and as soon as they do, Caleb bursts into laughter, illusion fading away as he wheezes, leaning against the wall for support, finally withdrawing himself from Fjord’s side.

It’s the hardest Fjord has ever seen him laugh.

Until his face is red again and there are tears slipping down his cheeks.

“I’m glad you find this funny,” Fjord says, aiming for annoyed.

Caleb starts pulling himself together, though he’s still grinning as he swipes at his face, “Ja, a little,” he says, voice back to his usual accent, “the look on your face was priceless.”

Fjord grumbles as he starts walking, though a hand slides around his wrist, tugs him to a stop, so he turns back to look at Caleb, who’s amusement has faded into quiet contemplation and seriousness. At this rate, he’s going to get whiplash trying to keep up with Caleb.

“I am sorry though.”

“Whatever for?” Fjord asks, turning properly to face Caleb, who suddenly releases his wrist like it’s done something to offend him.

Caleb rubs his neck, starts fidgeting, “For not warning you of my plan,” he says carefully, slowly, “for touching you without your permission,” he adds gently.

Something in Fjord’s chest seizes tight and he exhales sharply, forgets to breathe for maybe a second too long, inhales suddenly, “Caleb, you don’t have to—” cuts off when Caleb holds up a hand, heart slamming inside his ribcage.

“Fjord, please,” Caleb says quietly, shuffling closer, leaving a scant foot of distance between them, “We have all done a piss poor job of respecting your boundaries and I am trying to do better about that.”

“Oh,” Fjord whispers.

He hadn’t known anyone had even noticed.

Of course Caleb had though, he saw too much all the time.

Caleb’s mouth twists, displeased for some reason.

Rubbing a hand over his mouth, Fjord exhales heavily against his own palm, tries to reclaim his scattered thoughts. “I, uh, I appreciate that, Caleb,” he settles on finally, “it means a lot to me. I’m not... it’s not,” he sighs noisily, dropping his hand, “you saved us from being arrested tonight and I can’t be upset about that.”

Being under Caleb’s intense scrutiny makes his palms itchy and his jaw ache, but he waits, lets Caleb see that he’s telling the truth and eventually, Caleb nods, just a sharp bob of his head, “If you say so.”

“I do say so,” Fjord tells him.

Then Caleb’s head tips back, “Perhaps I misread your discomfort then on the way back.”

Ah.

Fuck.

Fjord clears his throat, “Maybe you’re losing your touch, Widogast.”

Caleb’s eyebrow arches high, grin curling at the corners of his mouth, “Maybe,” he says, steps closer, still not touching though, “I do not think I am.” Then he steps neatly around Fjord, walking for the stairs, fancy dress cloak drifting out behind him.

Not for the first time tonight, Fjord thinks about the impressive figure that he cuts, then realizes he’s still standing in the entryway of the chateau like a fool and hastens to follow behind Caleb up the stairs.

When he crests onto the top floor, Caleb hasn’t entered his own room, is in fact leaning against the wall next to the door, clearly waiting.

“Did you need something else, Caleb?”

Caleb’s eyebrows are drawn together, playful expression evaporated and replaced by a serious, contemplative one, “Today has been... a day, has it not?”

Fjord snorts in place of an answer, catches the gentle uptick of the corner of Caleb’s lips and counts it as a success.

“Many things are now up in the air for us, ja? Things are going to change,” Caleb carries on and Fjord watches him scratch at his arm through the layer of his clothes before he forces himself to stop, wonders if Caleb properly realizes he does it. Doesn’t look away fast enough, watches Caleb’s thumb start to rub at the scar on his palm instead.

Like a worry stone.

Resisting the urge to look at his own palm, Fjord nods slowly, considering, “Maybe? It feels that way.”

Caleb hums quietly, “I only wished to say that,” his eyes lift, bright blue even in the dim torchlight of the hallway, “I am glad that you are here,” and huffs a laugh at himself, “I am looking forward to failing with you.”

Fjord swallows thickly, finds himself taking several steps towards Caleb, still leaving a few feet of space between them, “Or succeeding, hm?”

The war of emotions on Caleb’s face is evident before Caleb slowly nods, “I will not be getting my hopes up, but ja, or succeeding.”

He’s not sure how long they spend standing there, simply staring at each other, but a burst of giggles from Jester’s room has Caleb startling and finally reaching for his door, “Guten nacht, Fjord.”

“Good night, Caleb,” he replies quietly, as Caleb’s door clicks closed behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/vowofenmity).
> 
> imagine me, writing a wf that doesn't have a single kiss. who even am i anymore? i'll make it up to y'all.


End file.
